Finding Madison
by FlyingWithoutWingsLove
Summary: Do you ever get the feeling that you want to break away? Just run through the night without a care in the world so long as you can leave the world you once new behind? I have had that feeling all of my life until now.
1. A Teaser

Finding Madison

Chapter One:

A Teaser

**A/N: Hello again. After much contemplation, I have decided to post this romantic comedy about a prideful American girl, Madison, and the notorious shadow king, Kyoya. I wrote several of the beginning chapters to this story approximately six years ago so please forgive me if the writing nature appears a bit naïve. I did my best to edit them without hindering the story line. Upon that note, I hope you all enjoy.**

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I walked aimlessly down the seemingly never ending corridors of the illustrious Ouran High School. With violin accompanying my right hand, I vigorously walked pass several engaged rooms. I had to admit I was getting slightly perturbed. I was simply trying to find a place to practice but my efforts were proven futile. It seemed that no one really left after school as I would have hoped so, and to top it off they inhibited ever music room, filling it to the brim with their trifling chatter and clanking of their wealthy and self-empowered tongues. Apparently the function of a music room was not just for harnessing one's musical adroitness, as I was so foolishly under the impression of, rather than to use it for one's benefits of socializing. How silly of me for actually associating the term "practice" to these adolescents of being from such a prominent bloodline.

"They have probably never had to lift a finger in their lives," I scoffed as I hastened my pace.

It has been a long day and all I desire is written within the sheeted music of Paganini's Caprice no. 24. I longed to hear its saccharine melody flood my ears and produce their whimsical vibrations against the drum of the ear. I longed to have the sporadic movement of my hands upon tempo to be the sole thought within my mind and not this impending frustration that threatens me now.

That's when my cerulean eyes happened to rest upon the promising door of the third music room. I fervently opened its door, but to my demise I found it occupied like its brethren. Perhaps a rather cozy broom closet would serve more than its name's intention. Surly those who are tainted with the crisp air of dollar bills and burdened with such deep pockets would rather donate to charity before stepping into such a place of work that houses their cleaning supplies, objects they are probably unaware of existing. It's highly plausible that they are all under the impression that cleaning is simply done by magical elves that only roam these halls during the sanctuary of night.

I stared bleakly at the six boys posed around their leader as they welcomed me in a shower of rose pedals. Their elusive aroma tickled the senses as it reminded me of the longing images of home, but now was not the time to dwell upon the past. Now was the time to seemingly find the needle in a haystack.

I simply permitted my shoulders their leeway as they sagged by my weighted sides before the exasperated sigh filled every inch of my lungs, condemning me to release it, and obediently I did. "Damn," The word stumbled from my insubordinate tongue, its profanity clashing against the merriment of the scene. It raged wild and abhorred throughout the room as it threatened to dismantle every tea set until a fine powder erupted from its presence, rupture the marble within the very walls to reduce it back to its state of grime, and taint the colors of the room in such an uproar of dingy shades of gray unless its presence was marked.

Averting my gaze and prompting my mind back onto its beaten path of practicing, I turned as quickly as I had came and left whatever cosplay I just inadvertently interrupted, leaving whoever they were with such a stretch of contemplation across the wrinkles of their foreheads that it would extend for miles. Somewhere, etched within its finer corners, must have been such appalled looks of flabbergasted expressions for surly I must have startled them as much as I had myself.

I normally do not take it upon myself to demand entrance towards the most outlandish of places only to blurt out profanities as soon as I am gained access. However, I am sure we have all had a similar instance upon our hands, or perhaps I am just performing another face saving technique. My mother had warned me of such trickery.

I continued my quest to the very depth of the campus, not taking too much interest as to why six guys and a girl posing as a feminine boy were arranging themselves into striking poses that could very well be used as the next picture upon a magazine prompting the grace of royalty. This was Japan after all.

The subdued ringing from within my articles of clothing distracted me from my mission as I released the cellular device from its prism fastened by my coat pocket. I decided on the boy's uniform considering that those yellow puffy dresses were modeled after the abysmal candies known to some as marshmallow peeps. Despite the seamstress' dissent upon my decision and her ability to fasten me into her personal voodoo doll rather quickly with the plethora of needles she expressible needed to carry, we bargained on the boy's uniform but with an accommodation of a blue plaid skirt that shared striking resemblance towards that of a Catholic school girl's uniform. The slight dispute did little to abolish my hatred of all things puffy and containing ruffles.

I sighed once at the caller ID upon the phone and then another for its color that could only be depicted as tickle-me-pink. Needless to say I was not the one who decided upon its hue. I contemplated on the thought of whether or not I should euthanize it by removing its battery and placing it out of its misery but the thought subsided as the ringing became even more pressing upon the drums within my ears.

"Hello?" I inquired to the other end of the line, denying existence as to who it could be on the screen.

"Outside, now." The demand shook the contents of my mind, lapsing upon the edges and spreading itself to be the only thought contained. The coolness and defiance within its tone took the liberty to repeat their meanings to me, even well after the call was terminated.

I sighed once more, no longer out of content for those breaths were only marked by the air of frustration. I banished all thoughts of practicing from my mind, giving up on the notion entirely appeared to be a wise decision no matter how much I detested it. I descended down the grand staircase towards the very boy whose mere name forced an exasperated sigh from my lips. It took no longer time than the hand of death to grace the presence of the dying for me to meet the very man I was trying to avoid.

A counterfeit smile that was merely an impression of what it once was followed by a sweet tone was all that was required of me now. "Riku," The name grazed the tip of my tongue and left scars on the roof of my mouth that were likely to never heal.

The corners of his lips reached out in their greeting, revealing the white of his teeth as he smiled. It was true, he was quite the actor. Yet, no amount of effort could diminish that certain flame of exasperation in those rich chocolate eyes of his.

"Where were you? I was so worried." The concern in his tone compressed all his worries into a single pale lined frown. I was horribly convinced that if he were to ever pursue acting, an Emmy was sure to await his decision.

"I'm sorry for any trouble I have put you through, but I simply couldn't miss such an ideal opportunity to explore my new school. Surly someone as compassionate and thoughtful as you could understand my reasoning," I replied with a minute smile of my own. Despite the frame of the lie that carried my words, the intent behind them was quite accurate. It really was not my first day at Ouran. I would be an official transfer student from America as of tomorrow, and never imagining that I would ever attain such an honor, I simply could not contain my exhilaration or my inquisitiveness. Thus, I decided to appease both by wondering the halls of such an illustrious establishment.

His back straightened by such knowledge, extending to his full six feet and three inches worth of height, dominating mine in its measly five feet and three inches of latitude. "Of course I understand." His hand entangled upon my own as he steered me towards our departure in the shape of his black town car. I deduced that this was his Monday one as its hue and logo became apparent. Despite being used to his forceful and rather rugged nature, my arm still tensed under his cool grip.

"Just promise me that you will be more careful in the future. I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Any form of an innocent bystander, whether it be a mother or her child, would look upon the scene with the notion that we were high school sweet hearts, lingering in the grasp of love as only adolescents can. However, it is under my deepest sympathies to state that such a pedestrian would be rather incorrect. He was threatening me, clinging towards his dominance in any way that he could attain as his words stung what little pride I maintained.

I simply countered by allowing the very tips of my fingers to grace the strands of his auburn hair, taming them within a single touch. "I promise, my love."

The corners of his lips curled from their own delight as his weight shifted to favor me a kiss upon the forehead. His touch as well as his presence left me feeling numb and peculiarly hollow. Naturally the chorus of "awws" scattered throughout the street did little to improve this circumstance. He whispered in my ear a frozen demand to get in the car, each syllable being callously bitten off from the range. At least he benevolently opened the door for me. That's a plus right? . . . Right?

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**A/N: Thank you all for taking the time to read the first chapter. As you can tell, it's much shorter than my current stories but I hope it was just as entertaining. Please leave a review if you have the time. Feedback, both positive and negative, is always appreciated.**


	2. Nightly Rambles

Finding Madison

Chapter Two:

Nightly Rambles

**A/N: Thanks to all of you who read the first chapter and added this story. Special thanks to Rainbow Cookies x and Regin for leaving such nice reviews. I was surprise to receive such a magnitude of positive feedback so quickly, especially for such a short chapter. I hope you all continue to enjoy! As a special reward, I decided to post this chapter sooner than I had intended. Barley reaching three pages, it's still shorter than some of my other works, but I assure you that the chapters will grow over time.**

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I sat as far as my seat would permit in a frantic attempt to distance myself from the boy who desperately wanted to be a man as he overcompensated with snide remarks and brutal demands. My insubordination remained freshened upon his mind, seeping into his vexed words as he relentlessly rambled about my brash and negligent nature, wishing for me to be more docile as the house wife of his dreams. I did my best to follow his speech. Truly, I did, but somewhere between the derogatory spaces of his insults and his condescendingly exasperated sighs, I found my gaze drifting towards the scenery portrayed by the vehicle's window. All of his speeches seem to blend into one when you've heard them as frequently as I have, and after an insufferable time spent listening to them, the outside word pales his lectures. As a final sigh rested upon his pursed lips, he abruptly changed dialogue, gaining my undivided attention in the swiftness of an unnerved millisecond.

"What you need is to live with me." His seductively lowered tone hinted that he was not implying a domestic lifestyle choice, but rather sinfully intimate nights that painted my cheeks a faint crimson from embarrassment. He averted my gaze, an astute move considering it was harsh enough to turn him into stone, or much worse, the mere shadow of the man he claimed to be.

I muttered something to do with Hell and its current state of temperature before I replied with my charmingly counterfeit and docile remark. "I would love nothing more, Riku, but my Christian upbringing forbids it. We only have a few more years before the wedding, and then I will be yours completely." I despised the notion of belonging to another, it's reminders of being nothing more that property sent a shiver cascading down my spine in the fashion of a cool sweat. I clung to the reassuring knowledge of having three more years of autonomy, knowing that they would elapse far too quickly to my predilection. Regardless, I silently thanked God for the time permitted to me.

It does sound vaguely peculiar that I would be thanking God in this circumstance, but my faith endures despite the impediments that falter my optimism. I suppose unconditional, inconclusive faith is all that I am left with in such a quandary. I've heard the accusations of others claiming me to be in a state of denial, only caught in the first state of grievance, but I disregarded their self-proclaimed, textbook analyses just as I had dismissed reality.

Riku chuckled that soft, ominous cackle of his that could only indicate, by my years spent with him, that he knew something that I didn't. Judging by his mirth, he was obviously going to enjoy enlightening me with it, rubbing it in my face in that self-righteous way of his. My hopes fell when thoughts lingered on the concept of what was previously mentioned, the wedding.

"How careless of me. It nearly slipped my mind to tell you that our wedding has been rescheduled for this June. Father thought it would be best to tie the knot sooner and your step-father seemed eager by the proposal." Contented by his reclaim of power that stroked his conceited ego, his gaze fell upon mine. A sly smirk played across his thin, tight lips, curling them in delight upon his imminent triumph. "Isn't that wonderful news, my blushing bride?"

I looked back upon him with a solemn expression that was magnified through the tearing of my soul, followed by the dying spectacle of my heart. Feeble as it was, I coerced a jovial smile on my reluctant lips. "That's splendid!" He might as well just shoot me. The thought crossed my mind as I turned my attention back towards the window, incarcerating a sigh by my gated lips. I was weary of being able to handle any more "good" news for the day.

It all seemed inevitable now. I was going to get married, and to a man that no longer held my heart. I felt like throwing myself underneath the car and letting it make me one with the pavement. At least it would make a remarkable conversation starter for all those dreary dinner parties I would soon be attending.

I was only fifteen and I was already developing preparations for my immediate death, realizing that of course I wouldn't have the moral fiber to follow one through to the dismal end. I lightly sighed to myself, realizing that it was hopeless. Even if I were to scheme a million strategies for escape, it would all be in vain for I knew I could never again face the reason as to why I agreed to such outlandish terms. I am bound, just as others before me, to the promise that I gave my family in exchange for their reassurance. And if it were only for a withering moment that I was graced by her smile again, than all of this pain and suffering would be worth it. I would do anything to see that smile again, even getting married to the guy next to me, currently yelling at his meager assistant, who was bound to suffer from cardiac arrest or tinnitus. I made note of his name in order to properly thank him later, fully aware of the confrontation Riku wields as if his only means of verbal communication. I knew the year that stretched before me would be a hard one, but I also knew that it would be worth it in the end.

Time stretched before us, elapsing with the lethargic velocity of an eternity before Riku's town car pulled fluidly up to the iron clad gates that fortified my apartment complex from those with insidiously intimate intents such as his. As the car halted upon its iron vision, I tenderly thanked my fiancée and his timid driver before hastily removing myself from the imprisonment that Riku's company fashioned when he was in such an acerbic disposition. I heard the door vibrate from the impact of its forceful closure, no doubt by Riku's handling, but at such a point of numbing bewilderment, it did little to faze my already disturbed disposition. Soon, I would be in the sanctuary of my home, far away from the prying eyes of the world that only brought ghastly news with its scornful glances. With a vacant valediction pressed thin upon his lips, Riku barked his orders to the cowering man in the driver's seat, and they speed off similar to that of a Fast and Furious scene.

Sparing a moment to humor them before they departed, I leisurely walked to one of the vast apartment complexes. Once safely out of sight, I spun upon my heel and turned towards my covert destination. With a brisk pace, longing to be sheltered once again by its welcoming walls, I commenced my journey to my genuine home.

I had found its existence while in my youth. Convinced that I would be the new female James Bond when I was eight, I developed a habit of sneaking into rooms whose walls housed information and items that were prohibited from my sight. I found the deed to the house along with a brief description of its interior and exterior tucked away in an old office drawer of my father's while I was testing out my sate of the art lock picking device – one of my mother's bobby pins. Attached to it was a note that addressed my mother as it wished her a happy birthday in the same slanted penmanship I knew to be my fathers. Irate, at the time, at the punishment of being caught in my father's old study, I refused to disclose what I had found. As time passed, I never managed to pry the secret from my lips, knowing that she would sell the only reminder of my father upon my step-father's persuasion.

Consisting of two fully furnished bedrooms complete with closets, one hallway bathroom, a kitchen that was as stocked as my living expenses would permit, and a diminutive living room embellishing bookshelves rather than a television that were all conveniently located on one floor, it was a humble dwelling. Although it paled in comparison to one of Riku's garages connecting to even the nominal of his estates, it would always brandish the title of my home away from home.

I entered through the side door that lead me into my vibrant golden kitchen complete with second rate appliances that I treasured for they had once graced his hands. As I moved past my living room adorned with rich burgundy walls, my German Shepherd, Ace, trailed behind my stride. I affectionately rubbed the back of his ears before slipping comfortably into the guest room that I had altered into my own bedroom. I dared not enter the master bedroom for it was my respectable parent's, and it will remain as such for as long as time will permit.

I threw myself upon my bed with welcoming arms while Ace curled by the foot of the bed, lowering his head with the reception of a night's rest. As I lay there exhausted from the day's adventure and the early morning's plane trip, my fingers absently traced the reddened Victorian time periods depicted by my comforter. It was a mature one that used to belong to my mother. When I was younger and waiting for my mother to awaken to my cries of morning, I used to stare longingly at the silhouette of a woman embellishing an umbrella painted in a crisp scarlet. My mother used to refer to her as la femme mystérieuse, the mysterious woman. I longed to be her, delightfully inexplicable and smiling as if the troubles of the world dared not to pertain to her.

My mother always possessed an adoration for language, French being her ideal, her third love after my father and myself. She tried to endow me with her passion, which was anticipated from a linguistics professor at a private college in Ohio. The memories of Saturday mornings spent groggily memorizing basic foreign vocabulary and semantic rules abruptly flooded my mind as it enveloped my heart, weighing it with a futile longing for the past. Despite forgetting the majority of my lesson's content in time, I'm still able to maintain brief conversations in Italian, French, Spanish, and German. I was, and still remain, absolutely abysmal at German. The language always struck me as the sounds of a dysfunctional blender.

At the ripe age of eleven, I fell in love with Japanese culture. I taught myself the language, which is plausibly the reason behind my butchering pronunciation. I had aspired to visit such a picturesque country with a rich, enchanting culture, and being offered a liberal arts scholarship for music from such an exalted and prominent academy as Ouran felt as good of a reason as any to pack my bags.

Turing my head to admire the craftsmanship of the object that granted my wish, my gaze traveled over my violin's frame, eager to feel the bite of its coarse strings upon my fingertips in tomorrow's lesson. Content by the premonition of practice and rendered lethargic by my day's many trifling tribulations, I buried my face into my comforter's warm embrace, caressing my cheek with its soft fabric as I breathed in its scent. It still smelled of warm summers and the faint vanilla of my mother's perfume. It smelled of the home that I had left in Ohio.

After successfully reaching my home away from home, I scoffed at the realization that it was only six at night and I was already exhausted. What a poor excuse for a teenager I was. Learning from my past experience, I knew that walking the stretch between Ouran and my home would only leave me with an ill impression between my professors by rendering me late for my first day. I highly doubted that a school as illustrious and pompous as Ouran would provide public transport on the premise of it being a commoner's means of transportation. The yellow of the busses would clash with their skin tone. What a travesty that would be.

Images of the aged titanium bike I excavated as I rummaged around a summer yard sale passed promptly through my mind as I settled upon the notion of biking to school. Despite the plausibility of the teal paint that chipped away to expose the faintly rusted metal being the school's new jest, I was oddly attached to the worn out means of transportation. A sigh escaped my lips for the final time today as I lay in my bed, wondering of what tomorrow could hold. I dozed off somewhere in the middle of contemplating about being accepted into such a prominent school like Ouran and buying more kibble for Ace.

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**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed that brief look in Madison's past. Please leave a review if you can spare the time. I always enjoy reading your little notes of bliss and encouragement! I have been working on a sketch of Madison and I hope to have it finished soon so that I can post it with the next chapter. In the mean time, have a fanfiction filled day!**


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